


I Would Help You Bury the Body

by hcb53139 (ravinghazelnut)



Category: Batman - Fandom, Iron Man - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers
Genre: Bruce Feels, Finding a Family, Gen, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6901996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravinghazelnut/pseuds/hcb53139
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They meet at boarding school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Help You Bury the Body

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [When they finally come to destroy the earth (they'll have to go through you first)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/366745) by [AlchemyAlice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlchemyAlice/pseuds/AlchemyAlice). 



> B.H.D = Before Howard’s Death  
> A.H.D = After Howard’s Death  
> My timeline is definitely messed up here since I have no idea what exact age Tony actually was when the events took place, so I just took a guess (Howard died when he was 16). And Bruce is 3 years older than him (yeah, don’t ask), and the Batman incident took place…sometime. Don’t look into it too much, and bear with me.

**10 B.H.D**

They meet at boarding school. 

The first time Bruce talks to Tony is in the cafeteria, it is the younger boy’s first day here and he looks so lost standing aimlessly in the middle with his lunch tray, all messy hair, big eyes, and trembling lower lip.

“You can sit with me.” Bruce says to Tony quietly, reaching out to tap him on the shoulder. He doesn’t miss the way Tony recoils violently and that the big brown eyes that meet his are suddenly filled with fear.

“O-okay, thanks.” Tony says back politely as he sets his tray down on the table.

Tony doesn’t ask Bruce about how they're the only people at the table, and Bruce doesn’t mention the way Tony’s hand trembles violently and his soup spills from his spoon. 

 

**6 B.H.D**

They fall into the same routine, sitting quietly next to each other at lunch at the table in the middle of the cafeteria, and all the other kids avoid them like the plague. 

Maybe it’s a billionaire thing. 

They now exchange some small talk and Bruce listens patiently to Tony rant about engineering and yada yada yada, and he silently resents Tony.

Bruce resents everyone in the goddamn building; at least they still had parents, family, they still had someone in this world. 

And then Christmas happens. 

Bruce spends Christmas holiday in his dorm doing nothing, and he stays silent and sullen as he listens to the other kids exchange funny Christmas stories, or boast about what presents they got. 

Lunch is the same, Tony sets down his tray, this time shaking exceptionally violently, so much that some of the soup in the bowl actually spills out from the edge. 

He has a split lip and his right eye is covered with a big bandage, both of which he attributes to a nasty fall down the stairs.

Bruce looks at him for a few seconds, "Alright." 

 

**2 B.H.D**

“College already?” Bruce leans against the doorway of Tony’s dorm room, which is filled with boxes neatly sealed by duct tape, of which at least three are stuffed full of nerdy Captain America merch.

“Just glad that I can get out of this hellhole.” 14 year-old Tony sticks his tongue out.

Bruce chuckles but still murmurs a bit in agreement, “And to think you’re just gonna leave me here, stranded with these idiots.”

“Yep,” Tony says, bending over to pick something off the floor and popping the ‘p’, “You fit right in, Brucie Bear.”

“Funny,” Bruce deadpans, “Also, don't call me that,"

"I'll miss you," He continues, quieter, "I think." 

“Me too,” Tony’s eyes soften as he looks at Bruce again, “I think.” He adds.

They both burst out laughing.

 

**0 B.H.D**

Bruce sits next to Tony at the funeral, and he’s definitely hungover. Or still drunk.

From the corner of his eye, Bruce sees the top of a small red and gold flask sticking out of Tony's suit pocket. Yep, definitely still drunk.

Tony’s other friend (and how the hell did he manage _that_?), Roddy or something, sits on his other side. 

After the service finally ends and they manage to escape the reporters, Bruce quickly escorts Tony to his car and Alfred’s talking to the bald guy (Obadiah, was it?) to excuse Tony.

Bruce doesn't comment when Tony helps himself graciously to the minibar in the back of the limo. Nor does he say anything when Tony tucks away his favorite Gucci sunglasses and buries his head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

There’s no way, _no way_ , that Bruce will know what Tony is feeling, but at least he knows what it feels like to have no one left (except Alfred; Bruce is lucky).

It feels horrible. 

 

**5 A.H.D**

Tony’s face is plastered on the front of every newspaper, the front page of every website, and is everywhere on the news. 

It makes sense, since he’s turned 21 and he’s going to inherit his dad’s billion-dollar company, but Bruce still grows a bit annoyed as he sips his scotch in front of the TV. He can’t even get through an old rerun of Friends (don’t even mention it) without the little bar at the bottom of the screen popping up with another Tony Stark news flash. 

“Jesus Christ,” He yells, and he's maybe just a bit tipsy, throwing his hands up in the air, “We get it! Tony Stark fucked that supermodel again! I really don’t need to know that, media!” 

“Master Wayne,” Alfred appears suddenly with his hands clasped behind his back, perhaps a glint of amusement in his eyes, “Mr.Stark is here for a visit.”

“Hm.” Bruce grunts in response and Alfred wisely lets Tony in. 

“Heyy Brucie,” Tony’s words are slurred.

“You’re drunk.” Bruce says, and Tony murmurs in agreement.

Bruce sighs and helps him to go to bed in one of the guest suites without a question, because he knows what the pressure feels like. 

 

**13 A.H.D**

“Hey, Bats,” Tony says noisily over the phone as soon as Bruce picks up, “Bats. Hmm. Can I call you that? Bats, I mean.”

“No.”

“But, Batssss!” Tony whines and Bruce sighs at him. 

He supposes it’s his own fault.

“Am I really that obvious?” Bruce asks because the first news report on Batman is still airing and Tony has already figured out his newest, biggest secret. 

“Come on, Bats,” Tony drawls, still not ditching the stupid nickname, “Who do you think I am?”

“Right, I almost forgot,” Bruce snorts humorlessly, “Tony fucking Stark.”

“Hell yeah ,Tony fucking Stark.”

Tony fucking Stark shows up at Bruce’s manor a few days later with a bottle of champagne and spends the next hour or so criticizing the voice that “sounds like you ate a rat alive and it’s trying to get out of your mouth by crawling back up your throat.”

Then, a more heartfelt, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

Bruce isn’t sure if he agrees with that. 

 

**17 A.H.D**

“Bruce, I met someone,” Tony says to him, this time not drunk, eyes shining brightly as they sit down at the dinner table for their monthly meal. 

“Are you high?” Bruce says the first thing that comes to mind.

"The fu– you know what, whatever," Tony says, then barrels on as if Bruce had said nothing at all, "Her name is Pepper Potts and she’s my PA, and she’s extremely beautiful and smart and strong and cool and she puts up with my shit. I've never met anyone like her, Bruce, and oh, she's all prim and proper when we're at the company but in the bedroom she is just a bea–”

“Sounds like a keeper, Tony.” Bruce lifts his eyes from the wine menu. 

“Yeah, it’s just…I haven’t met someone so patient with me in so long,” Tony sighs, “Not since Rhodey and Jarvis, anyways,

“You would like her if you met her, Bruce.”

As it turns out, Bruce is quite fond of Pepper when they finally meet (“Well, I had thought that Tony was kidding when he said he was childhood friends with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.” Pepper smirks. “He was. Not a childhood friend, Miss Potts.” Bruce spits out the words ‘childhood friend’ like they were venom.)

 

**20 A.H.D**

Tony goes missing for three months. 

“Hello, is this Colonel James Rhodes? This is Bruce Wayne, of Wayne Enterprises.” Bruce says briskly into the phone when the line connects. 

“Yes, I’m aware. Thank you for calling, Mr.Wayne, I was wondering whether or not you would be willing to–”

“Fund the search party,” Bruce cuts in, “Definitely. Give me a number.”

They finally find him, half-starved and dying of thirst, walking alone in the desert.

Bruce doesn’t go visit Tony in the hospital, but calls him when a news story about an unidentified object (red and gold, figures he would design it based on his fucking _flask_ ) detected by the Air Force is on the television.

“Red and gold suit, really?”

Tony can practically feel the eyebrow-raise from the other end of the line. 

He just hums a little in response, and a silence stretches over the line until Bruce finally gives in and mumbles a quiet and embarrassed, “I was worried about you.”

“Say that again? The connection’s not so great in the hospital, you know that, Brucie Bear. Or Brucie Bat? Nah, bear sounds better.” 

Bruce can almost see the shit-eating grin that Tony’s wearing, but he puts his pride aside for a second to say, “I was worried about you. Still am.”

“Yeah, still in one piece. Thanks for the concern.”

**20.5 A.H.D**

Tony wakes up to the familiar rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, the glare of the fluorescent hospital lights, and the smell of disinfectant.

“Hey, Bats.” He says, his voice coming out raspy and distant to his own ears.

A sharp intake of breath, and Bruce looks up, not reprimanding Tony about the ridiculous nickname this time. 

“Who did this to you?” His voice is quiet, but burning with fury.

Tony’s hand immediately goes to the arc reactor.

“Ob–Stane.” 

“How is he doing right now?” Bruce smiles with a dangerous edge to it. 

Tony gives him a weary look, then turns away so he doesn’t have to look Bruce in the face, “He’s taken care of.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead too.” Bruce says, thinking back to 7 years ago, when he had just come back. 

He wonders if this was how Tony had felt at the time; the relief yet horror at the realization that you’d almost lost something important. 

Tony doesn’t reply. 

 

**25 A.H.D**

“Brucie Bat! I met another Bruce, and he’s smarter than you and turns into a ginormous green rage monster in his spare time,” Tony starts babbling as soon as they sit down, “And this terrifying assassin called Natasha or Black Widow–you’d like her–and this other assassin/spy/marksman who was brainwashed by an alien God from Asgard, called Clint,

“And Thor! The dude’s awesome. He calls Hawkeye–right, that’s Clint, forgot to say earlier– Eye of Hawk, you know, all that Norse mythology jazz. Oh, and the alien God from Asgard who brainwashed Eye of Hawk is his brother. And he has like, this huge hammer that only he can lift and it makes thunder and shit appear. 

“And then there’s Captain America” Tony’s face turns a bit sour, “Steve Rogers. Annoying dickhead– fantastic ass, though– and not at all as great as Howard made him out to be.”

After a few seconds of silence, Bruce raises an eyebrow, “I watch the news, you know.”

“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t know how much of a bag of dicks Captain America actually is.” Tony says defiantly, crossing his arms. 

“I have no doubt that you’re exaggerating the circumstances so that at least one person will agree with your most-likely untrue claim.”

Tony scowls, but something’s changed about him. 

He smiles more genuine smiles, not media smiles. 

Bruce knows that Tony has finally found a family.

 

**28 A.H.D**

Bruce meets the Avengers for the first time at the Met Ball. 

“Brucie Ba–Bear!” Tony cuts in while Clark is conversing with Mr.Wayne, not Batman, because Bruce still hasn’t gathered up the courage to tell his team his real identity. “How’s the world’s second-favorite genius-billionaire-playboy?” 

Bruce just scowls, and says, “Shut up.”

Clark’s eyes widen as he glances between the two men.

“Mr.Wayne, it has been rumored that you and Mr.Stark attended the same boarding school as children, have you remained in contact since?” He immediately asks, because that’s his job, and Bruce doesn’t miss the way Tony tenses up at the mention of boarding school–at the mention of his childhood.

“Yes, we exchange the occasional phone call and are on friendly terms. Now, if you would excuse us, we have rich-people duties to tend to.” Bruce says sharply, quickly grabbing Tony’s arm (not missing the way he flinches) and steering him away. He picks up this trick from Tony: if you’re not sure what to say, just mumble something about being rich and walk away.

Clark just watches them go bemusedly. 

“You’re welcome,” Bruce says when they’re out of earshot, and Tony snorts in response and starts to steer them towards a group of people at the bar.

“Speaking of,” Tony says to Bruce as they reach the bar, "There are a few people I want you to meet,"

"This is Bruce," He says to Bruce, then turns to Bruce, “And this is also Bruce.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Bruce,” Bruce says, holding out his hand.

“Nice to meet you too, Bruce,” Bruce says back, shaking the extended hand. 

“Bruce?” Tony inquires, just to have both Bruces perk up and respond with a “What?”

“Okay, now you guys are just messing with me,” Tony scowls good-naturedly, “Come on, Wayne, come meet everyone else.”

Bruce (Wayne) just smirks, and turns to the rest of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. 

“Wait, Stark has friends other than us?” A shorter but well-muscled man speaks up, eyes twinkling in amazement. 

“Shut it, Barton.”

This Barton rolls his eyes but shuts up nonetheless. 

Huge Blonde Guy #1 gives Bruce a bone-crushing hug, and he suspects that ribs may need some checking on. Huge Blonde Guy #2 just gives him a polite smile and shakes his hand, and Bruce guesses that this must be the infamous Steve Rogers. 

Tony sees Bruce smile mischievously, and oh shit because nothing good has ever followed that look–“Wow, Tony was right, Mister Rogers, you do have a phenomenal ass.” And Bruce dares to throw in a wink there, watching in amusement as the man’s face slowly grows pink. 

“Bruce, honey-bear, muffin, cupcake, various other desserts,” Tony drawls, determined not to fall for Bruce’s tricks. He makes a show of walking behind Steve and scrutinizing his backside, "It _is_ a nice ass," He contemplates, tapping his chin with a finger, "But I wouldn't say _phenomenal_."

Bruce’s smile widens too as he meets Tony’s eyes, “Agree to disagree,” He smirks and looks back at a bemused Steve, “You wouldn’t believe how high resolution the TVs are now, Captain; I can see _everything_ I’m looking for.” 

Then the two billionaires just look at each other, and laugh until they can hardly breathe.

Pepper drops by gracefully with a flute of champagne and her brow furrows upon seeing the two men doubled over with laughter,

“What am I going to do with these two?”

 

**32 A.H.D**

“Bruce,” Tony bawls over the phone, clearly drunk, but Bruce doesn’t berate him for it this time because he’s clearly heartbroken, “I messed up. Big time,”  
Bruce hums a bit, and asks, “What happened?”

“Pepper–I almost–Pepper almost died,” Sharp intakes of breath between the words, “Because of me. I made dumb mistakes. God, why the fuck would I ever tell people the address to my fucking house? Pepper almost died because of me. I can’t–I can’t–can’t breathe, Brucie, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault,”

“No, it’s not. It’s What’s-His-Name’s fault; who the fuck tries to kill a guy’s girlfriend just because he got stood up once by said guy years ago?” Bruce says, in an attempt to be comforting, “Although, I will admit, it wasn’t a smart move to reveal where you live,”

“God–Tony, I won’t sugar-coat it for you–you’ve killed a lot of people,” Bruce hears Tony start to protest but talks over him with a stern tone that makes Tony shut up (which is rare, mind you). “No matter if it’s your weapons, or in an attempt to protect the earth, but there’s always a reason behind it, Tony. A good one. Your weapons– you didn’t even know about it. Obadiah, the slimy bastard, was doing it behind your back, and as for the others, you were protecting the world, Tony. You fucked up this time, Tony, but you’ve never deliberately killed a man, for your own pleasure. And that's good enough for me.”

The line is silent for a few moments.

“But what if I did, one day?” Tony finally says quietly, “What if I killed a man intentionally one day, just because I could and I wanted to? What would you do then?”

Bruce is quiet for a minute, but the answer is clear as day.

“Then I would help you bury the body.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and vote, please!


End file.
